


Bearable days

by HiAjay



Series: With the Pack comes a Stiles [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:36:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiAjay/pseuds/HiAjay





	Bearable days

Stiles _knows;_ Stiles knows for two reasons.

 

One; Derek didn’t get out of bed this morning. Derek didn’t even tighten his grip as Stiles got out of bed in the early morning.

 

Two; Derek didn’t leave the bed at all. Maybe to walk down the hall and use the bathroom, but Derek remained in bed.

 

Stiles knows this side of Derek. Just like he knows the other Derek; this Derek, this man who is silently cursing himself with every breath, is currently fight demons that Stiles can’t help with. Stiles has tried, lord knows he’s tried.

 

Stiles has a routine that he goes through in the mornings. He wakes up a quarter to six then he has to fight Derek’s grumbling protests about him leaving that bed. When he does finally leave he heads into the bathroom and then returns to bed to wake Derek.

 

Though he knows full well that Derek is already up. Stiles would lean over him as he was sprawled out on his belly and give him a gently peck on his temple, “Morning bunch-of-oats.” Stiles would say quietly.

 

But this morning, this morning Stiles didn’t fight Derek to leave. Stiles just leaves, and he doesn’t return. Stiles knows he needs to leave Derek alone. Though all he wants to do is comfort him and hold him, he _knows_ better.

 

Stiles is in the kitchen working wordlessly on a paper that’s due three weeks from now, when he hears a creak in the living room. Stiles looks up to see Derek staring blankly at the kitchen island where Stiles has all his books and papers spread. Stiles doesn’t say a word, just glances back down at his paper.

 

He pretends to focus as Derek drags his way to sit across from him. Resting his head on the cold granite, using his arm as a pillow.

 

“I was lonely.” Derek says.

 

Stiles looks up with a smile, “I’m never too far.” Derek just hums in agreement, because he doesn’t want to let Stiles know that’s what his mother used to tell him whenever he was upset like this. The need to touch Derek was unbearable on these days.

 

Because as much as Stiles thinks that their physical contact wasn’t much—it always seemed like a whole lot on these days. Derek snaked his and over Stiles papers, and stopped so he wouldn’t strain himself. Stiles mindlessly reached out without looking as he read a page in his book about how werewolves aren’t always intact with their human side.

 

Stiles felt Derek intertwine their fingers and then just held them there, on the mess of papers and books. This was Derek’s way of saying _you can touch me and I won’t feel sick about it._ Because Stiles know that Derek feels sick when he’s touched without wanting it; Stiles always tries to drown himself in his school work so he won’t be tempted to talk to Derek.

 

Because Derek is in no mood to talk, or at least respond to what Stiles says. After a few moments Derek pulls at Stiles’ hand, calling him over. Stiles sighs and highlights where he left off and without letting go of Derek’s hand makes his way around to him.

 

Derek lazily turned on the stool was sitting on, lifting his head just as lazily when Stiles made his way into the V of his legs. Derek was slouching in his seat, he looked up at Stiles.

 

His face tired and defenseless, Stiles could read his eyes better than anyone. There was so much sadness that Derek was hiding, a misery that Stiles wish he could erase. Derek then pressed his forehead to Stiles belly, breathing in his scent. Derek reached without moving his head to find Stiles’ other hand.

 

Stiles reached out for it and held it like it was a life line.  Derek let’s go of the first hand he took hold of and runs his hand up Stiles side. As to where Stiles ran his fingers through Derek’s bed hair; This is how Derek’s worst days become his bearable days.


End file.
